


Safe Bet

by jenni3penny



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 11:44:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19317505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenni3penny/pseuds/jenni3penny
Summary: It's poker night and Grace wins the ongoing bet, per request.





	Safe Bet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coolbyrne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/gifts).



She feels safer than she usually has when waking up in someone else's bed. Likely because she feels safer with _him_ beside her than most other men she meets.

It probably has something to do with the way he's been holding her since about four in the morning, his arm up under her and bent upward so that his forearm follows the line of her spine. His hand has been locked in her hair for hours and he's been guarding scars, even if subconsciously, since she had jolted awake from a dream she didn't dare share.

(It's also likely that he just makes her feel safe in general. No other explanation necessary. It's been that way their entire friendship. It's been that way since he moved to try and kindly fix her car while on the edges of a hurricane. He has always, _always_ , been a certain sorta safety.)

"It's six in the morning," she grumbles, blindly batting at the way he's kissing her jaw to try and draw her out. " _Jethro_ , it's Saturday."

"You don't have to get up," he kisses back up to her mouth, words on her lips as she starts to give into a smile, "Lay back."

She unintentionally makes a sound that lands somewhere between a happy sigh and a moan as she lets him roll her onto her back, his whole length pulling up over her. His mouth takes hers with no mercy and there's absolutely no question in her mind as to where the morning is going. Not with the press of his tongue against hers or the way he grips her knee and gives it a shove.

Not that she _could_ mistake his intent when he growls his kisses down her throat, face buried there as he sucks and nips against soft skin. He finds a way between her legs and resting over her, most of his weight leaned to his left so his right hand is free to tease her.

 _God, that's it._ That's the faith she has in just the movement of his hands and shoulders and mouth and she's not sure how long it's been since she's trusted a man so completely.

Actually… she's not entirely sure she's _ever_ trusted a man quite _this_ completely. And likely definitely not since Afghanistan. Besides Leon she'd lost the men who'd held her highest loyalty and it's always been a battle to find more like them.

He's not necessarily _like_ them, though.

Because not one of them would have had enough swagger to put his mouth to her throat and spread her legs so assuredly. Not one of them would have dared to try and put her naked on her back in their bed.

"Best Saturday _ever_ ," she whispers, running her nails up the back of his scalp while he starts moving lower.

"Trying to convince you to stay the weekend."

She doesn't want to fight him, per se. Especially not when he lifts his head to kiss her again, his groan laid onto her tongue as she matches his fervor.

Her arms rise to sling around his shoulders. "But I have - "

"Shhh," he rumbles against her lips, a hand getting between them to press her left pelvic bone and she can feel her whole traitorous body twitch in anticipation of his fingers.

Sometimes her physical body is a whole separate creature that loves him more than she does (except that's not anywhere _near_ true).

"Laundry to do," she finishes lamely, whimpering when he catches the inside of her left thigh and shoves her legs farther apart. The thrust of his forearm and wrist has her biting against her bottom lip, moaning in quiet appreciation.

He's not entirely impatient but he is being forceful, his beautiful eyes glossed and possessive as he watches her face. "Wear my clothes."

" _Gibbs_ ," she grouses, eyes gone shut and her hand stroking into his hair as his head dips down the front of her ribcage. "It's poker night."

His mouth aims straight down the center of her, his whole body shifting down her and leaving the kisses he's pressed on her skin to cool. Jack just digs into his hair as his mouth drives down her stomach, kissing farther south while he finally presses one long finger up into her.

"No point in leavin' then," he murmurs, slowly adding another finger while his head lifts to watch her reaction. Her back arches as her hips bear down against him and she can't help the way a long moan wends out of her as his thumb finds her clit, then his mouth. His tongue traces its way lower and she can feel his free hand stretch up, forearm pressing down her hips as he draws his fingers out.

"I can't - can't wear your clothes to poker night."

"Don't wear any," he shrugs against her thighs, the words painting hot breath against saliva. She feels him settle in deeper, his shoulders lowering under her legs and she laughs when he grunts annoyance and just shifts her legs against him.

"Gibbsian logic doesn't always work in the real world, ya know?"

"Don't see why not," he tells her, utterly perfunctory. He punctuates it with a kiss against her right knee and she bites down, forcing herself to breath slowly as he just smirks up at her.

She's never going to win a fight against that particular boyish smile, that's a fact.

"Take me home for a change of clothes, at least," she gives in, breath hitching when he rewards her by putting his fingers back between her legs. "We'll get stuff for tonight."

He laughs onto her thigh, kissing softly before pressing one word onto skin. " _Shush_."

 

***

Seeing her walk ahead of him, chewing against a ragged thumbnail as she meanders the cookie and cracker section… He hadn't yet realized how much he's just ached to have _this_ time with her.

They don't often get to be domestic, not like this. Not in a lazy Saturday, wandering the cookie aisle and shamelessly flirting sorta way. Not in such a public setting, a world away from work, one that has them together because they belong _to_ each other and not just physically with each other.

He leans his weight into the cart handle and takes the time to appreciate the fit of her jeans. "It's not the Geneva Convention, hon. Just _pick_ something."

She tosses a near instantaneous grin over her shoulder, hand lifting to shove her hair from her face as she catches his eyes coming up the length of her. "Every single one of them is extraordinarily hard to please. Especially when it comes to food."

"You ain't kiddin'."

He's not the only one enjoying the slowness of the day, obviously. Because all his commentary does is stop her dead in her tracks and send her back to his side. Fine by him, though. She smells like his shower and shampoo and he tugs her in by her front pocket just to take a look down the front of the tight fitting Henley she'd pulled out of her dresser.

He won't even pretend to be well-behaved around her if she's just gonna tease his senses that way.

Especially when she doubles down by giving him another grin.

"Like draws to like?" She questions, lifting her mouth into the soft and chaste kiss he's offering her.

"So just get what _you_ want," he murmurs, brushing his lips off of hers.

There's a lazily-made lift to her shoulder as she presses away, a hand stroking down his side and off his belt as she reaches for _his_ favorites rather than her own. "I've already got what I want."

Assertions like that are just gonna stop his heart one day and that's how he's gonna die. It's not going to be a murderer, or a terrorist bombing, or a lunatic with a gun. It's simply gonna be Jacqueline Sloane in a grocery store, telling him (without telling him) that she's in love with him. Gonna just drop him dead because it generally snaps his heart still for longer than it should.

"Oh, yeah? Do you?"

She sets a package of peanut butter Oreos into the cart and then catches the side of it with her fingertips. Her weight tips all to one side of her body while she looks at him and he can damn well hear the small sound she makes just at the top of her throat. "You can't look at me like that tonight if you don't want them to know."

"Who says I wanna hide it?" he asks, watching her shift closer.

"I'm just..." she shrugs and reaches out to his shirt, keeping her head down and watching her own fingers as she grips into his hoodie. "I _do_ think they should know."

Right, so his regular grocery store is likely not the best place to have the conversation, but mostly because she's being sorta unwittingly cute about it and that always pulls him physically closer to her. Cute _usually_ annoys the hell out of him but Jack generally only seems to fit the word when she's also being vulnerable (or sassy).

"Then just lemme look at you however I wanna look at you and mind your own business," he murmurs over her quietly, voice intentionally threaded low and humming, purposely mischievous. She's already leaned up the front of him by the time he's finished saying it and he's half forgotten where they are, instead enjoying how sexy she feels as she presses weight into his chest and wriggles her hips closer into his in answer to his tone.

She's not the only one that can play at being salty - and she's also not the only one that can shamelessly flirt in the relationship. Which is exactly why he so plainly adores the scandalized look that lights her eyes just before she squints and gives a shove into the center of his chest. He steps back into the movement and laughs, pushing her fingers back in her direction while his other hand catches on her waistband and tugs her in close.

"Don't be bossy," she tells him sharply but her eyes are brim full of bemused playfulness. "Stop flirting with me and go get your beer."

He notes the way the woman at the other end of the aisle smirks up at them after hearing half the conversation and he steps away slowly, "You want anything?"

Defiance in her jaw as she juts it up at him and gives him a grin, "What'd I just say a minute ago?"

 

***

"Why'd you let him keep his key?" she teases, voice low as she takes the bag he hands her out of the truck bed.

His body angles closer to her, shoulders first as he brushes his kiss against her cheek and drops his voice to a responding whisper, "You're lucky I even got him to move out."

"Well, Gibbs, at least this better explains the ladies underwear in your bathroom - not that they aren't _very_ pretty." It's a heavy-handed taunt and she just smirks in answer, reaching for another bag as Fornell finds them at the back of the truck. His grin is so obviously knowing that it would verge on smug if there wasn't the warmest hint of affection in his eyes as the smile softens. "Hey, Jack."

She chooses not to answer, instead leaning forward and offering him her cheek playfully. He's all in on the game, kissing her lightly while he squeezes her wrist and takes the bag she's just grabbed out. She can feel Gibbs watching them both, the heat of him radiating into her back and rolling out over them as he grunts with whatever emotion it is that sits wedged between amusement and annoyance. Begrudging acceptance, most likely.

"Tobias," he grits out the acknowledgement, shoving another grocery bag into the other man's chest with force. "Make yourself useful."

"I'm the first to know, eh?" Jack just smiles at the implication he makes and takes another bag that's handed to her as Fornell teases them. Though, his pride tanks pretty quickly when he looks at her for confirmation and she gives him an apologetic face. Leon _knows_ , of course. Sorta hard to ignore your friends and employees making out in the elevator… "Not the first? Your team? Leon?"

The questions are all very purposely ignored by Gibbs and she doesn't offer any answers either. She doesn't actually say anything, letting the two of them wordlessly duke it out instead. She steps aside and catches the way Gibbs gives her a once over. She smiles at him, watching his features as she adds a silent wink and draws a grin out of him.

"Here for dinner, apparently?" he asks Fornell as he shoves the tailgate closed with a thunk, voice still full of that smile and teasing now, instead of accusing.

The older man shrugs and she steps back behind them, watching them head into the house as a pair. "Brought a couple steaks, yeah."

"Jack's makin' something."

"I gotta invite myself?" Tobias throws over his shoulder at her playfully. There's a comfortable happiness between them that she appreciates, one that has her whole body relaxing as Gibbs snorts a half laugh and shakes his head.

This is very much what she had wanted. Because _this_ feels like family. And he _needs_ family. Maybe he's also not the only one… "Of course not, Tobias. I'm making plenty and you're welcome to stay."

"She's altogether too good for you, y'know that?" Fornell tells the other man, seasoning his voice with put on wisdom and feigned accusation.

They're cute together, honestly. Just a couple of grumpy old men, being happily acerbic to each other, poking and prodding and generally annoying one another. She wishes she had an extra hand to pull her phone out and take a picture of them grousing at each other from behind.

"She's told me," Gibbs admits with a half shrug, turning his profile her way so that she can see his smile.

Jack steps into the conspiratorial smirk that she gets from both of them, tugging up into Fornell's side with her own gentle smile, "I made him get those Oreos you like too, y'know."

"Gibbs, I _Iove_ this woman."

 

***

His friend flops into the chair beside him, lowers the brim of his hat farther down his forehead, and then gets a head start on being goddamn annoying. "How in the hell - "

" _Tobias_ ," he half growls, scraping the bottom of the beer bottle against the arm of the deck chair as he shakes his head. "Don't - "

"I mean it. You drug her or something? Stockholm kicking in?"

Obviously the warning tone had meant nothing to the other man. Excellent. So they're gonna have _a talk_. Their little man-to-man ' _talks_ ' were almost always excruciating. At least Jack knew when to step back and let go. Tobias just won't shut his damn mouth, not if he can ferret out just a bit more information. It's not the informational quarry that's important to the former FBI agent - it's the hunt itself.

Still… The discussion is obviously inevitable. And she's nowhere near the back porch to play savior. _Traitor_.

He wishes he'd just stayed in the kitchen, with her... "I dunno, maybe. Doesn't make much sense to me either."

"You're serious?"

He simply shrugs, drinks his beer, tries to avoid emoting. "She deserves better."

" _You_ are a moron," Tobias negates, fast and staccato, his argumentative tone lifting loud enough that he's pretty sure she probably heard that part. Thankfully the other man drops his voice quiet once again as he continues, "She's been in love with you for… I don't even have a time frame. Why do you think I never - "

"She'd eat you alive," Gibbs interrupts, leveling his tone low and grumbled. The very last thing he wants to imagine is Fornell flirting with Jack any more than he already does.

"Yeah, and I like that in a woman."

"Obviously," he mutters before exhaling hard, taking a hard swallow from the bottle. He bites against a smirk, their ex-wife in his thoughts as he shakes his head. It's in the moment that he remembers the exact pitch of Diane's voice that his chest gets hot and tight. "Scares the hell outta me."

"Jack does?"

Of course Jack, yeah. But not Jack. The possibility of losing her once he lets himself really love her? And probably worse…? The distinct probability of hurting her, seeing her in pain… Causing her pain… "Don't want her hurt."

He really _is_ a moron, he thinks.

Because there's no getting out of loving her now. He doesn't _want_ an out, no exit, no back-up plan.

"Gotta give yourself a pardon at some point, Gibbs," his friend says quietly, reverently. "That woman is your reprieve… _take it."_

 

***

 

Dinner had been easy because the both of them can never shut up and still have something to talk about later and he appreciates that (it gives him space to breathe).

It's later that becomes problematic, once the others arrive and he realizes, at the table and two hands in, that she's been sitting to his right since the first night she'd answered his invitation to poker with a smile and a fat bottle of Jack.

They've been together without being together and he suddenly deeply misses the wasted time, looking at her as Grace deals out their next hand. All those moments they could have had seem to lay out over the table with generic playing cards and he slumps roughly back in his chair. Jack catches the turn of his head and smiles at him, snared up by the look on his face. She blinks confusion, head tipping as she starts to reach toward him and hesitates. Her hand stunts still against the table and he catches the flicked pause in Grace's deal, just a barely there stutter in the pattern of her movements.

He just slides his hand under hers, catching her fingers between his own. The flicked sound of the cards in Grace's hands goes louder and he watches Jack's smile go broad and beautiful as he lifts her hand and kisses the back of it, giving another squeeze as he stands to get another drink.

"Want anything?"

She grins at his repetition from earlier, her hand finally loosening from his as he starts to head for the kitchen. He purposely strokes his hand along her hair as she nods. "Glass of wine?"

There's a sudden noise of frustration thrown out from behind him and he recognizes that sound from a pretty deep well of experience. He's frustrated the hell out of Grace before and done it fairly often, actually. It's the whip-cracked accusation that comes out of her afterwards that has him chuckling to himself. "When were you two weasels gonna tell me I'd won?! Pay up, suckers."

"That's all I got left!"

"Guess it's an early night then, _Toby_." Grace surmises, her voice all sharp edges and snapping as Jack laughs. "Go take a nap somewhere."

He tugs the fridge open, grinning as Fornell argues in the background. "I gotta pay _right now_? It'll ruin the game."

"Just shut up and pay the woman, Fornell." Leon's voice leads into Jack's laughter and Grace's crow of victory and he grins to himself, pulling her favorite wine out and laughing at the (suddenly _loud_ ) sound of family one room away.

He's got everything he needs… He doesn't want anything else.


End file.
